Linen and Lace
by madeleine68
Summary: Alex is in high school. She's the popular one; she has it all. But then she meets Olivia . . . AU. THE LAST CHAPTER IS UP! Please review.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Alex or Olivia. However, I do own Arianna, Amanda, Andrea, and all the other characters you don't recognize.**

**First of all, this is completely AU. Alex and Olivia are in high school. Also, the title of this story comes from a song by Martina McBride, **_**Concrete Angel**_**. You'll understand later on. Enjoy!**

"Hey, Lex!" calls Arianna, one of my best friends, waving to get my attention. I climb out of our car and wave to our driver before looking around to locate where Arianna's voice is coming from. She's leaning against the brick wall of our school, smoking a cigarette.

"Those things will kill you," I tell her, a note of disapproval evident in my tone.

She rolls her eyes. "And hello to you too."

I laugh. "Hi."

A few moments later, our other friend trot up. Andrea and Amanda are twins and the four of us have known each other since kindergarten. Today's the first day of high school, but we're not too worried. We've always been the popular ones and we always will be.

"Have a good day, girls!" calls the twins' mom and they roll their eyes.

"Bye, Mom," they say in unison.

"How was camp?" I ask them. Their mother forced them to go to camp for the whole month of August, so Arianna and I haven't seen them in months.

Andrea makes a face. "Bo-oring."

"Dirty," adds Amanda.

"Hey, germophobia is _Alex's _thing," says Arianna.

"Mysophobia," I correct her automatically, and she rolls her eyes.

"Someday, you're either going to be an English teacher or a politician."

"Politicians are pretentious crooks," I tell her, disdain lacing my voice. "And English teachers have to deal with annoying kids like _you_. I'm going to be a lawyer, thank you very much."

She laughs. "Sometimes I wonder why we hang with you."

"Because you love me," I reply, flashing my most charming smile.

"Well, anyway, everything at that camp was covered with gum," says Amanda, going back to the original subject.

"What's so gross about gum?" asks Arianna. "I chew gum. So do you. Even Alex chews gum."

"Nothing's wrong with _chewing _it, but it's disgusting to stick it under tables, on beds . . . you get the picture."

"Anyway," I cut in. "What do you guys have first period?"

Amanda checks her schedule and makes a face. "Math."

"English," says Andrea.

Arianna and I glance at each other and smirk. "Ari and I have _all _our classes together," I tell them.

Andrea rolls her eyes. "That's nice." She's used to us bending the rules whenever possible.

The bell rings. "Bye, Andy," says Arianna, dropping her cigarette and stepping on it to put it out. "Bye, Mandy." The twins trot off and she turns to me. "I love saying that. Come on, Lex." We link arms and start off for our first class – gym.

The gymnasium in high school is about three times the size of the one at our elementary school. I groan. Size = running further, playing longer . . . "I hate gym," I grumble.

"Yeah, because it's so _dirty_," teases Arianna. I give her a light punch on the shoulder as we change into our gym shorts and t-shirts.

But she's right. The gym is dirty, the change room is _really _dirty, and the showers are so dirty that a shudder runs through my body even _thinking _about them.

We change quickly, then Arianna nudges my shoulder. "What?" I growl, irritated about having to put my beautiful, _clean_, new clothes on the dirty benches while I pull a scratchy gray t-shirt over my head.

She nods towards a dark-haired girl on the other side of the change room. She's tall and very thin, with olive skin. She's wearing baggy clothes and looks very uncomfortable, holding her gym clothes in her hands but not making a move to change into them. There's something about her that's . . . _interesting_. Something that makes you want to get to know her.

"Don't stare," I say, suddenly uncomfortable myself. "Some people are shy." I've always been secure with my body – people tell me all the time how beautiful I am – but it's a confidence that many teenage girls don't possess.

Arianna snickers, but doesn't take her eyes off the girl.

The girl turns around, sees Arianna staring, and looks at the ground. Ashamed. Feeling like an idiot, I grab her arm. "Stop."

Arianna shakes me off. "Okay, okay." She kneels down and ties up her running shoes. "Let's go."

I follow her out into the main gym, but my eyes linger on the dark-haired girl for a moment before I turn away.

Arianna and I sit cross-legged with the rest of our class, in front of our gym teacher. She gives me a disapproving look and asks, "What's your name?"

"Alex," I tell her.

"You need to put your hair up so it doesn't get in your face. Do you have a hair elastic?"

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "Yes. It's in my bag."

"Go get it," she orders.

I turn to Arianna, who rolls her eyes. Then I get up and jog into the change room to find an elastic.

The girl we saw before is still in there. She's in the process of changing and her shirt is off. Even though I know I shouldn't, I can't help but stare. Covering her back is an array of dark bruises and red welts.

Thoughts race through my mind at the speed of light, none of them making any sense. I've never seen anything like this before. Who –?

The girl whirls around to face me and gives me a look that could freeze an entire ocean. Her chocolate eyes flash as she pulls her gym shirt over her head. That's when I see the burns on her arms. They're cigarette burns – I recognize them immediately. "What the fuck are you doing?" she hisses.

"I'm sorry," I stammer, swallowing my next words. _What happened to you? Who hurt you? And why?_

With another dirty look, she turns away and flounces outside. I stand there staring at her, wondering what just happened and what it means.

Then I remember why I'm here to begin with. Rummaging through my purse, I locate a hair elastic and pull my waist-length blonde tresses into a ponytail before jogging back into the gymnasium and plopping myself down beside Arianna. My eyes scan the room until they locate the girl I saw in the change room. She's leaning against the wall, sitting all by herself, clutching her knees to her chest. I wonder about her. Then I wonder why I care. She and I are light years apart. I'm the popular one, the perfect one, the queen bee. I'm smart, blonde, thin, beautiful. I have lots of friends. I have lots of money. I have it all. And this girl – I don't know her, but she looks like she has nothing at all.

Arianna nudges me. _What took you so long? _she mouths, but I just shake my head.

Our gym teacher, who's introduced herself as Ms. Blaine, starts to take attendance. "Danielle. Marianna. Caileigh. Olivia."

The girl I saw in the change room raises her head and quietly says, "Here." _So her name is Olivia. _There's something about her fascinating about her, something that makes me want to get her know her better, to know things about her. Not because I want to be part of the rumour mill as I usually am, not because I want to share her secrets with the entire school, but because there's just something about her that makes her unique, but in a good way. And maybe I'm just a goodhearted person who wants to help her. But no, that's not what friendship is. You can't be friends with someone just because you feel sorry for them.

Arianna nudges me again and my head snaps up. "What?"

"So nice of you to join us, Alexandra," says Ms. Blaine sarcastically. "I called your name. Twice."

Blushing, I toss my head, which is a nervous habit I have that I've been trying to break for a long time – I know it makes me seem conceited. "Here."

"Thank you," she says condescendingly, then goes back to taking attendance. When she's finished, she says, "Now I want you to get into pairs."

Everyone jumps up, immediately making eye contact so they don't end up partnerless. I look at Arianna, but Ms. Blaine shakes her head at us. "I can see you two are going to be trouble." She gestures to Arianna. "You be with Ella." She turns to me. "You can be with Olivia."

I groan. _This is a great start to the year. Why does she have it in for us already?_

Arianna turns to me with a confident smirk. "Jealous," she says in a stage whisper. Ms. Blaine hears and glares at Arianna as she prances off to partner with Ella, a small girl with dark, curly hair.

I walk over to Olivia, who's leaning against the wall, a bored expression on her face. I take a better look at her. She's wearing a long sleeved black shirt under her gym t-shirt and sweatpants under her shorts. Well, I know why _that _is. She has shoulder-length brown hair that looks like it hasn't been brushed in a week and huge chocolate eyes, so deep that they seem as if they can penetrate my soul, and I have to look away.

"Go get a volleyball," Ms. Blaine instructs us.

Since Olivia isn't making a move to do so, I jog to the storage room and grab a volleyball. I hand one to Olivia.

She smirks. "You can stop being so _nice _now."

I just stare at her in confusion. _What does she mean by that?_

She rolls her eyes. "Throw."

I toss her the volleyball and she bumps it in a perfect arc. It soars up into the sky, then falls down and lands on my head. It doesn't hurt, but it's kind of embarrassing, and I blush.

Olivia looks at the ceiling. "You're supposed to hit that thing, Einstein. You go to it, not the other way around."

"Right," I agree sheepishly and throw the ball straight up. I try unsuccessfully to bump it. The ball flies behind me and hits the wall.

Olivia rolls her eyes again. "You have to take off your watch. Otherwise it won't work."

I run to retrieve the ball, then reluctantly do as she tells me. But then where do I put it? The floor is _dirty._

She smirks at my hesitance. "Princess."

Casting her a defiant glare, I carefully lay the watch on the ground next to me. I put my hands together and bump the ball toward Olivia.

It doesn't arch the way it's supposed to; instead, it barrels straight at her and hits her right in the nose. Surprise flashes in those bottomless chocolate orbs and her hand flies to her nose.

"Oh, my God! I'm so sorry," I apologize to Olivia, but I'm not even sure if she hears me. She's too busy trying to staunch the blood flow from her nose.

Ms. Blaine runs over to us. "What _happened_?"

"It was an accident," I explain hastily. "The ball hit Olivia."

She turns to Olivia. "Are you okay?"

Olivia's doubled over, clutching her nose. "Yeah," she manages. "I'm fine." She takes her hands away and I see that they're covered with sticky red liquid. _Blood. _I feel faint as more blood drips from her nose to land on the gymnasium floor.

Our teacher gives me a disgusted look. "You take her to the nurse," she orders me.

Olivia's eyes widen and her face pales. "I'm fine," she repeats, bringing her hand back to her face to curb the blood flowing from her nose.

"No, you're not," says Ms. Blaine. "Alexandra, take her to the nurse."

Her eyes get even bigger, but I say quietly, "Come on," and she reluctantly follows me out of the gym.

The second we're in the hallway, Olivia pulls away from me, still clutching her bloody nose. "I'm fine," she gasps. "Take a walk, then go back to class."

"Are you sure?" I ask in concern.

"Yes," she growls. "Stay away from me."

"Where are you going?"

She pushes open the side door to the school. "Out."

**Is this worth continuing? Please review if you like it!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for all the reviews! They make my day. And since you like it so much, I decided to continue. Enjoy.**

We're in my bedroom after school. Arianna is sprawled out on my bed and Amanda is braiding her hair. Andrea is sitting cross-legged on the floor, painting her fingernails, and I'm lounging in my desk chair. We're listening to music on my iPod and chilling out, but my mind is preoccupied. I can't stop thinking about Olivia. I have to wonder about her – and then I have to worry. She's a walking bruise. _Who could ever do that to a child?_ Because much as we like to think we're little adults, that's all we really are – children.

"What's up with you, Lex?" asks Andrea, startling me out of my thoughts. She puts the cap on her dark red nail polish and blows on her fingernails, then looks up expectantly.

"Nothing," I tell her. "I'm just tired."

"Hey, Lex, tell them about gym class," says Arianna. Amanda finishes braiding her hair and secures the plait with a hair elastic. She rolls onto her stomach. "Your bed is so comfy."

The second part of her statement barely registers. "What about it?"

"About how you don't know how to play volleyball. About how you gave that weird girl a bloody nose."

"Yeah, well, what can I say? I'm an incompetent fool when it comes to sports. So sue me."

Arianna rolls her eyes, then turns over so her back is to me and she's facing Amanda and Andrea. "So Alex and I have gym first thing and we were getting changed and there's this really weird girl and she didn't want to change in front of anyone and Alex ended up having to be partners with her. Yeah, our gym teacher kind of hates us. Major jealousy issues."

"Imagine that," I comment dryly. A lot of teachers dislike the queen bees of the school.

Arianna shoots me a look, then continues, "So we were throwing around volleyballs and Alex, of course, doesn't know how to bump a ball. She shoots it right at that girl and it hits her in the nose. And her nose is bleeding all over the floor and Ms. Blaine tells Alex to take her to the nurse. And this girl keeps saying she's fine but finally she goes with Alex and then she just _leaves_. Isn't that weird?"

"Yeah," agrees Amanda half-heartedly, seeming disinterested.

"What do you think _her _deal is?" asks Andrea.

I bite my lip. I don't want to tell them what I saw. It just seems like something I should keep to myself.

After the twins' mother arrives to pick them up, Arianna and I are alone in my room. She's staying for a sleepover tonight. Arianna loves staying at my house; even though her parents have money, they don't live in the lap of luxury like I do. They would rather save their money then spend it like my parents, and Arianna is just as much of a princess as I am. She loves coming over to go swimming in the pool, to lounge in the hot tub, to watch movies on the flat-screen TV in my bedroom.

"What's up with you, Lex?" she asks me.

I shrug, wondering what to tell her, wondering whether or not I should tell her the truth. Deciding against it, I change the subject. "Did you bring your swimsuit?"

She gives me a funny look. "Of course."

"Then let's go swimming."

She follows me down to the basement and lounges in the shallow end of the pool while I swim ten, twenty, then thirty laps. Finally, I go to sit on the steps of the pool, slightly out of breath.

Arianna shakes her head at me in awe. "How do you _do _that?"

I shrug. Even though I'm awful when it comes to sports, I'm very good at running and swimming. I've found that they help me relieve tension and right now, I'm stressed but I don't know _why_. Movement, whether it's in a car or on the swings at a playground or running or swimming, helps me to think.

"Do you think it would be dangerous to smoke a cigarette in the pool?" she asks conversationally.

"Um, _yeah_. And you're not bringing one of those vile things anywhere _near _my pool."

Arianna laughs. "So possessive."

"They're vile things."

"Yeah, and they're _dirty_."

I roll my eyes. "Shut up."

We look up at the sound of approaching footsteps. _Great. _It's my older brother, Josh. He's sixteen and he's in this "phase" where he's too cool to be seen hanging out with his little sister. As Amanda put it once, "He's jealous. You outshine him." Which might be right, but we've been close since we were children.

"Hey, Josh," says Arianna with a coy smile, tossing her head.

"Hey," he says back, only politely interested.

I give Arianna a light punch on the shoulder. "That's my _brother _you're flirting with!"

"I get it. Look, but don't touch," she says with a grin.

I roll my eyes and do a back flip in the water, just to annoy her because she doesn't know how to do water gymnastics, much as I've tried to teach her. When I come up for air, I smirk at the expression on her face. "You're incorrigible."

I hear a splash coming from the other direction and my head snaps around. Josh has dived into the water and is doing a series of somersaults, seeing how many consecutive ones he can perform. When he finishes, Arianna raises an eyebrow at him and calls, "Are you trying out for the Olympics?"

He laughs. "Maybe someday."

Arianna snickers, then turns to me. "Your brother's _hot_."

"I know," I tell her. "Now you get your eyes off him if you value your teeth."

"Jealous?"

"Why would I be? But you're here for _me_, not for _him_."

"Who says?"

I laugh. "Get out."

She laughs with me. "Okay, okay. Can you teach me how to do a back flip?"

"Nope."

"Aw, why?"

I grin. Revenge is sweet. "Punishment."

Arianna pouts, then calls across the pool, "Hey, Josh, will you teach me how to somersault in the water?"

"Nope," he calls back. "Ask Alex."

She scowls. "Everyone's ganging up on me today."

This isn't fun anymore. Climbing out of the pool, I beckon for Arianna to follow me. With one last pout, she does. I grab a towel for myself and toss one to her and we dry off before returning to my bedroom.

"That was fun," comments Arianna.

"Yeah, well."

"Does it piss you off when I do that?" she asks with a devilish grin.

"Am I that obvious?" I ask dryly.

She laughs. "So let's see. I ask you a question and you dodge that question by asking me an unrelated question."

"It's perfectly related," I tell her. "It's called sarcasm. Ever heard of it?"

"After ten years of hanging with you? Of course I have."

We both laugh. I flop down on my bed and prop myself up on one elbow, leaving Arianna sitting cross-legged at the head, leaning against the headboard.

"So," she says, abruptly changing the subject. "What is it with that girl – what's her name, Olivia?"

"What makes you think I know?"

She shrugs. "There's just something – _off _about her."

"Yeah, well," I say again, shifting uncomfortably. Arianna is my best friend, but secret-keeping is not one of her stronger points. She's the biggest gossip I know, and I don't know Olivia's story, so I don't want her problems – which I'm sure are much bigger than those of your average teenager – to be broadcast all over the school. She would never forgive me.

But then, why do I care? I have no obligations to her. I don't know this girl. But I want to. And I want to – _need _to – do the right thing here.

Arianna peers more closely at me. "Lex, are you okay?"

"Yeah." I hesitate, then repeat, "Yeah."

She shrugs. "Okay. Got any good movies?"

"Sure." I get up and start to rummage through my video cabinet. "Um, we've got _The Devil Wears Prada_ or _The Princess Diaries_."

She makes a face. "We've already seen those ten billion times! What else?"

I push a couple DVDs to the side. "_Get Smart_."

"Bo-oring."

"_Mean Girls_."

"Fine. I never get tired of that one anyway."

With a satisfied smile, I pop the disc into my television and flop down beside Arianna on the bed.

"Press main menu," she orders.

I throw the remote at her. "Do it yourself."

She pouts, then does so.

We relax with the movie, but I can't keep my mind of the mysterious girl, Olivia. I wonder what she's doing right now.

**Review if you want chapter three!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for all your reviews! I apologize if anyone is slightly out of character. I did my best.**

Our driver, Daniel, drops Arianna and I off at school the next morning. "Have a good day at school, girls," he tells us.

"Bye, Daniel," Arianna calls, giving him a wave.

But I'm preoccupied. I'm staring across the parking lot at the girl I saw yesterday – Olivia. She's wandering toward the front doors of the school at an unhurried pace, wearing a baggy sweatshirt and dark track pants.

Arianna follows my gaze and clucks her tongue. "Honestly." She fishes a cigarette out of her purse. "Hey, you got a light?"

Without taking my eyes off Olivia, I reply, "Why would I have a light?"

She shrugs. "Good point." Amanda and Andrea materialize beside us a moment later and she turns to them. "Hey, Mandy, Andy. You got a light?"

Amanda shakes her head, but Andrea pulls one out of her purse and hands it to Arianna. "Here you go, Your Highness."

Arianna laughs. "Thanks." She lights up her cigarette and inhales. She blows her a ring of smoke in my face.

Coughing, I bat the smoke away. "That's disgusting."

Arianna grins like the Cheshire cat. "Love ya, Lex."

I shake my head at her. "Look, I'll see you in class, okay?"

"Where are you going?"

"Not your business."

As I march away, I hear Andrea murmur to Arianna, "What's up with _her_?"

I make a beeline for Olivia. I know she sees me out of the corner of her eye, but she ignores me and continues at a brisk pace. I match her stride. "Hi, Olivia."

She doesn't even look at me. "_What_?"

Well, I hadn't expected a particularly warm welcome. "So what's up?"

She stops and whirls around to face me, a fire in those dark eyes. "Let me tell you _right now_. I _don't _want your pity. I _don't _want your contempt. I don't want anything from _you_. So _get lost_!"

That stops me short. "That's good, because I don't want to give you any of those things."

She stares at me. "Then what do you want?"

I shrug. _What do I want? _"I don't know. I don't want anything."

She smirks. "_Right._"

"Okay. I want to be your friend."

Olivia just looks at me. "What makes you think I need one? What makes you think I _want _one?"

"Maybe I want one."

"_Why?_"

I shrug. "I'll leave if you really want me to."

She sighs, the fight draining out of her eyes. "No. I don't." She looks at the ground, then up at me. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay." And it is. I can tell that she's not used to people wanting to give her something unconditional, or someone who wants to be her friend for no reason except that they want to get to know _her_.

"So you'd rather be friends with me than them?" She nods toward the other side of the parking lot, where Arianna, Andrea, and Amanda are grouped together, laughing.

"I can do both," I tell her. "They're not mutually exclusive."

She gives me a small half-smile. "Point taken."

I follow her into the school, toward her locker. Olivia shoves her bag inside and grabs her gym clothes. "I hate gym," she mutters.

"Me, too," I agree.

She pierces me with her bottomless chocolate eyes. "For different reasons, I'm sure."

Well, I can't argue with that. "Ms. Blaine's got it in for me."

"Boo hoo."

I suppress my grin. "I guess I'm not here for the pity party either."

Olivia doesn't dignify that with a response. Instead, she leads the way to the gymnasium at a brisk pace.

I hurry to keep up with her. "The bell hasn't gone yet."

She still doesn't reply, and then I understand. She wants to get changed before anyone else arrives, so they don't see her battered skin. So I don't say anything else.

Olivia pulls off her sweatshirt, revealing a tank top that does little to cover the bruises on her skin. Her body is an array of black and blue marks, some of them turning yellow. Rainbows on a makeshift canvas.

I guess she can feel my eyes on her, because she whirls around and utters one word. "Don't."

I blush and turn away. I guess I'm no better than Arianna now. Taking off my own shirt, I pull my gym t-shirt over my head, trying not to focus on my own pale, unblemished skin. Milky white, not a mark in sight. Perfect.

When she's finished changing, she locks her sharp eyes onto mine. I feel like I'm staring into an abyss, a whirlpool of secrets and truths. _When you look long into the abyss, the abyss looks back into you_. She's looking into my soul with those eyes. _What does she see?_

But I match her gaze with my baby blue eyes, not breaking the contact. Finally, she smiles. "You're good."

I have absolutely no idea what she's talking about, but I smile back, at ease again. I bite back the words that bubble up in my throat. _What happened to you? Who hurt you? How can I help you?_

She sees the words on my lips and snaps, "I _don't _want your pity."

I manage a small smile. "What pity?"

She gives me a real smile this time, then beckons for me to follow her out into the gym. I sit cross-legged beside her and wait.

A few moments later, Arianna comes in. She raises her eyebrows at me before flouncing off into the change room.

Olivia catches the look that passes between us. "Go be with your friend. I'm not stopping you."

"You're my friend, too," I tell her simply.

That stops her for a moment. I'm sure she's not used to hearing those words – that is, if she's even heard them at all before. "You sound like a Hallmark card," she says dryly, clearly to mask her surprise.

I laugh. "Good to know I have a future secured for me."

She rolls her eyes as Arianna comes out of the change room and plops down between us. Ignoring Olivia, she says, "Hey, Lex."

_Well. That was rude. _"Hi, Ari." I look back at Olivia, who is clearly less comfortable at the intrusion. "Olivia, this is Arianna."

"It's nice to meet you," she says automatically, but scoots backward at the icy glare Arianna sends her way. She pulls her knees up to her chest and looks at the ground.

It makes me sad and I turn to Arianna in surprise. "That was mean."

She shrugs. "The kid is _weird_."

"You're misusing the word," I snap.

She gives me a look. "What?"

"Weird," I recite. "Relating to the supernatural."

Arianna rolls her eyes. "Weird: strange or unusual. Alex Cabot: walking, talking, annoying as hell human dictionary."

I smile in spite of myself. "Original usage."

"You can work for Webster's when you grow up then. For now, cut it with the definitions."

"Whatever."

I cast Olivia one more fleeting glance. She's far away now, on the other side of the gym, wrapping her arms around her knees and resting her cheek on her legs. She looks so . . . small. Vulnerable. _Poor Olivia._

She doesn't want my pity.

I wonder if I could ever be as brave as she is every day.

**Review for chapter four!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, I know this one is crazy short, but I didn't think it fit in with either the last chapter or the next chapter. So that leaves posting it as its own chapter and here it is!**

Our friendship, if you can call it that, is tenuous at best; we walk to gym class together, not talking about anything relevant, then split as soon as Arianna shows up. I don't think Olivia holds it against me, but with her, it's hard to tell.

Arianna, on the other hand, doesn't understand. "Why do you _want _to go anywhere near her?" she asks me.

I shrug. "She's interesting." A half truth.

Arianna rolls her eyes. "I don't understand you. But I know I never will."

"Such is life," I tell her dryly.

Two weeks later, Olivia comes to school sporting a black eye. I can't help but stare at it when I first see her, but she pierces me with her sharp glare. "Don't say a word."

"I – I wasn't –" I start, but she stops me.

"Courtesy of the boyfriend _du jour_."

That puts me in my place, just as she knew it would. I shut my mouth and silently accompany her to the gym, feeling like the biggest loser in the world.

From then on, I never ask. And from then on, she never tells.

**Review for more!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks for all the reviews! In this story, they don't live in Manhattan. They live in one of the boroughs. Just for reference. Also, sorry if Alex seems a bit out of character.**

A week later, my math teacher sends me down to the office to pick up some forms. "Because I can trust you not to linger," she says.

"Can I go with her?" asks Arianna.

Our teacher glares at her. "No. Hurry up, Alex."

I flash Arianna my sweetest smile, then trot off to the office.

Sitting on one of the chairs in the front, her arms crossed over her chest, is Olivia. I haven't seen her this morning, but I'm used to that. Sometimes she skips and sometimes she gets to stay home. Or at least, that's what she tells me. The fading marks and bruises that cover her body when she returns tell a different story.

I sit down beside her. "Hey, Olivia."

She refuses to look at me. "Whatever you're doing here, do it, then get lost."

If that's not a curt dismissal, I don't know what is. Olivia, although we consider ourselves "friends," is still a very private person and won't appreciate me butting in where I'm not wanted. So I get up and walk over to the front desk. When the secretary finally asks me what I want, I tell her I'm here to pick up the field trip forms for Ms. Ritchie.

She starts to rummage through her desk for them and I roll my eyes. Being an organized person myself – to the point of _obsession _– I have little to no patience for disorganized school officials.

I look up as the office door flies open. A woman with matted dark hair stumbles in. Her eyes are bloodshot and she's unsteady on her feet, unable to walk in a straight line. She's clearly drunk.

I glance at Olivia, who sinks down in her chair. The woman makes her way over to her and yanks a handful of her hair, forcing Olivia to her feet. She hisses something in my friend's ear that makes her face pale, but she doesn't say a word as she follows her mother out. When she gets close enough, she grabs my arm and hisses, "Don't say a word. To _anyone_."

I nod mutely, unable to make a sound as her mother drags her from the room. I see them in the hallway, and Olivia's mother smacks her in the face. Olivia doesn't cry out and she doesn't say a word.

Again, I wonder where she finds the courage. Again, I marvel at her strength.

The secretary finally locates the forms and hands them to me, but I just stand there, rooted to the spot.

"Go back to class now," she orders.

"Where's Olivia going?" I ask her.

She peers down her nose at me. "Not that it's any of your business, but she's going home."

"Why?" I demand.

"Week-long suspension. Now get back to class."

_Oh, Olivia . . . _I turn on my heel and all but run back to my math class.

I hand Ms. Ritchie the forms and slide into my seat beside Arianna. "What took you so long?" she hisses.

Our teacher fixes us with a glare. "Arianna," she says. "Come up to the board and solve 2a."

She rolls her eyes, but does as she's told, getting the wrong answer as usual. Arianna isn't good at math; she prefers to copy my homework and study notes rather than actually doing the work herself. I let her, because that's what friends do. "Two plus three is five," I tell her in a stage whisper. "Not six."

She blushes. "I knew that."

"You wrote that two plus three is six. Two plus three is five. Two _times _three is six. First grade math."

Arianna shoots me a dirty look, but obediently changes the step on the board.

Ms. Ritchie raises her eyebrows in surprise when she sees that Arianna has come up with the right answer. "Good job."

Arianna smirks and flounces back to her seat. "So spill," she whispers to me.

"Oh, that stupid secretary," I lie with a dismissive wave of my hand. "She's so incompetent."

She's staring at me with an uncomprehending expression on her face and I realize she doesn't know what that word means.

"Disorganized," I amend. "Honestly, you need to expand your limited vocabulary. Anyway, she couldn't find the forms. Idiot."

"Alex!" calls Ms. Ritchie. "2c."

I flip open my textbook. "Oh, um, 396."

She raises an eyebrow. "Good job. But pay attention next time."

I smirk. Teachers are constantly trying to trip me up, but I'm listening even when I'm not, if that makes any sense.

"How do you do that?" mutters Arianna in awe.

"Shut up and listen," I tell her. "If you did your own homework instead of copying mine, you'd be able to do it too."

She snickers. "I'll pass."

After school, I call Daniel and tell him not to bother picking me up; I'm going to take a jog in the park. It's what I do when I get really stressed out. Being anonymous, alone in such a massive throng of people, is comforting to me. Running helps me think.

The school is about a twenty minute walk from the park. It's a beautiful day outside, sunny and warm, and I stroll to the park, enjoying the nice weather.

I glance at all the houses as I pass, imagining who lives in them. It's a game I like to play. Sometimes, just by looking at a car or a house, you can tell who owns them – whether they have kids, what their job is, whether they're married, sometimes even whether or not they're happy.

After a few blocks, I see something that makes me stop dead in my tracks. Sitting on the stoop of one of the houses, her head buried in her hands, is Olivia. I would recognize that rumpled dark hair anywhere, those tattered sneakers, that olive skin.

Wondering briefly if I should ignore her and continue on my way, pretending I haven't seen her, I discard the idea. Instead I start up the driveway toward her.

Her head snaps up at the sound of my approaching footsteps and a small gasp escapes before I can stifle it. Olivia's a mess. She's sporting another black eye and there are four finger-shaped bruises on her right cheek. Her lip is split and she has cuts all over her face. Her arm is bent at an unnatural angle, as if it's broken. Her eyes are red and puffy, as if she's been crying, which terrifies me. The Olivia I know _never _cries!

"This is private property," snarls Olivia, wiping a hand angrily over her eyes to brush away stray tears. "Get lost, Cabot."

But I don't. Instead, I sit down beside her and put my hand on her shoulder, feeling immediately guilty when she shies away. "Liv," I whisper. "What happened?"

She starts at the nickname and her face softens for just a moment, but she replaces her mask almost as quickly as it slipped. "Nothing," she snaps. "Just go away, okay? And _don't touch me_."

I pull my hand back as if it's been burned. "I'm sorry," I say quietly. "I know it's not my business and you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to. But we're friends. And friends are there for each other."

She smirks. "Some _friends_."

I flinch as if she's hit me. "You're right," I concede. "I haven't been such a great friend."

"That's right," she says scathingly. "Now leave me alone."

Tears rush to my eyes as I realize what a superficial friend I've been, but I blink them back. "I'm sorry," I repeat.

She turns away from me when she sees the tears welling up in my eyes. "Don't waste your tears."

But there she is, a walking bruise, and she's telling _me _not to cry. My tears spill over and I'm outright sobbing, because this is all my fault. If I'd been a better friend, if I'd done something, if I'd helped her, if I'd been there for her, if I'd chosen her over Arianna because she needed me more, this wouldn't have happened.

Olivia sighs and turns back to face me when she hears my soft sobs. "Don't cry," she says in a gentler tone. "It's not worth it."

But I can't seem to stop. She awkwardly wraps her arms around my shuddering body and I feel how broken hers truly is, which only makes me cry harder. How ironic – she's the one who's been beaten half to death and she's the one comforting _me _as _I _sob my heart out.

"I'm sorry," I try to explain again. "I've been a horrible friend and you can hate me and you have the right."

Olivia lets go of me and pulls back, pushing her sleeves further down to cover the purple bruises I've glimpsed on her wrists. "Don't," she says quietly. "Just – just don't, Alex."

Suddenly, I hear a deep voice bellow from inside the house. "Olivia!"

She jumps and I see the fear etched into her features as she hisses, "Go!"

I grab her hand, feeling slightly foolish, but also terrified. "I don't want to leave you," I whisper childishly.

She tries to smile, but it comes out as more of a grimace. "I'll be okay if you go, but I can't guarantee I'll be okay if you stay."

Too late. A tall, muscular man with curly dark hair and wild eyes storms out of the house, slamming the front door. Olivia shrinks away and extricates her hand from my grasp. He roughly yanks her up by her hair and she bites her lip, clearly trying not to cry out. He backhands her across the face. "Didn't you hear me calling?"

She shakes her head, eyes wide with fear. "I'm sorry."

"Who the fuck is that and what the fuck is she doing here?" he snarls, tightening his grasp on Olivia's hair. The pain registers on her face, but she just bites her lip harder.

"No one. Nothing," manages Olivia. "She was – asking if we wanted to donate to Save the Children. I said we didn't."

He grabs her arm and twists it hard. This time, Olivia can't stop a small whimper from escaping.

I can't just stand here and watch him hurt my friend. "Stop!" I cry, swiping away the tears that well up again in my eyes.

He turns to me and snarls, "Get lost, kid."

_I'm _shaking in his presence. I can't imagine how poor Olivia must feel. But I know this is the only way. I know he'll hurt her more if he thinks I know her or care about her or I'm going to help her. So I get up and run as fast as I can, getting as far from that house as possible in the shortest amount of time. I don't glance back once, but I wince at Olivia's cry of terror as he drags her into the house and slams the door.

**Aw, poor Olivia. **** Do you want to find out what happens next? Review if you do!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed!**

I go by Olivia's house every day for the next week, but she's not there. I feel guiltier than ever and my irritability is at an all-time high. Arianna keeps asking me what my problem is, but how can I tell her without betraying Olivia's trust? So I don't say anything and she starts spending more time at Andrea and Amanda's house rather than at mine. To tell the truth, it comes as a slight relief. It's hard to pretend to be so carefree and frivolous when I'm worried about Olivia, worried that whatever's happening to her right now is somehow my fault.

The weekend seems endless, but finally Monday comes. I ask Daniel to take me to school twenty minutes earlier than usual and he obliges. When I get there, I breathe a sigh of relief I hadn't even realized I'd been holding and all but run to the side of the school. Olivia's sitting there, in our usual place, her arms wrapped around her knees, her head down. Again, I'm struck by how small and vulnerable she looks.

I kneel down beside her. "Hey, Liv," I say gently. "Are you okay?"

She looks up, displaying a face covered in bruises in various stages of healing. "Peachy," she says sarcastically, then sighs. "I'm sorry."

I feel even worse and hang my head in shame. "That was a stupid question." I hesitate. "What did he do to you?"

She tries to muster a brave face, but can't quite manage to appear as nonchalant as she'd like to. "Hit me. But I'm used to that."

"Where's your mom?" I ask, then cringe. _Another stupid question._

She smirks. "Oh, when she's not beating me herself, she's passed out on the living room couch, drunk out of her mind."

"Liv –"

"Since when am I, _Liv_?" she interrupts me.

Hmm, good question. I guess I'm just used to giving my friends nicknames. "Sorry."

She gives me a funny look. "I like it."

_Well, that's settled then. _Then it occurs to me. "Are you trying to change the subject?"

She tries to give me a small smile, but can't quite manage it. "Guess it's not working."

My throat tightens and my heart constricts. "How are you so brave?" I ask her quietly.

She looks up, her bottomless chocolate orbs staring into my soul. This time, I know exactly what she sees, and lower my eyes in humiliation. _I'm such an awful friend. _"If you lived with it all your life, it's all you've known. And you just pretend it's normal and it doesn't hurt so much. You could do it, too, because surviving is what counts. And in two years, I'll be out of that hellhole. I can take it for two more years."

Well, I hadn't really expected an honest answer, but I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. The admission is so poignant that I reach out and squeeze her hand. "You know what they do to you –"

"Spare me the lecture," she snaps, her tone hardening again.

I close my mouth. There's nothing more to say, so I just sit with her, keeping her company. I don't touch her and I don't say a word, but somehow, we both take comfort in each other's presence.

The bell rings. Hearing approaching footsteps, my head snaps up. There's Arianna, towering over us, giving me an odd glance. "Hey, Lex."

"Hi," I reply, not rising to greet her.

She gives Olivia a dirty look then turns back to me. "You coming?"

I shake my head. "Go on without me, Arianna. Tell Ms. Blaine that I'm in the office."

She raises an eyebrow. "Is the perfect princess asking me to _lie _to a teacher?"

"Yes," I snap. "And you'll do it if you value your teeth."

"Badass." She snickers and sashays away.

Olivia stares at me. "Now why the hell would you do that?"

"What?"

"Use the office as an alibi. They can check that in a second."

"I know. But I've done it before. It's reverse psychology. It's so easy to check that they never do, because they assume no one would be that stupid."

She gives me a look of admiration. "That's good."

I grin. "Thank you."

"So I take it we're skipping together?"

"Yup," I agree with a satisfied smile. It's strangely liberating to do something that the pre-Olivia Alex Cabot would never do.

She gives me an approving nod.

"So, Liv." I revert back to the original subject. "About the 'boyfriend _du jour_ –'"

"Can we _not _talk about this?" she cuts in.

"Is there _anything _I can do?" I ask her hopelessly.

She shakes her head and replies with a curt, "No."

I stare at my hands.

Her voice softens. "You like to fix things. You want to fix _me_. You can't. Such is life. Move on."

But I can't. So that night, I'm sitting on the edge of my bed, staring out the window with my chin resting on my hands. The sky looks so dark and the universe looks so vast. How small I am in comparison to the whole world that's out there. How irrelevant I am.

But then, to the world, you may only be one person. But to one person, you may be the world.

A shooting star catches my eye. Even though I'm not a child anymore, I do something that I used to do whenever I saw one when I was younger. I make a wish.

_Tonight I wish upon a star_

_For my friend Olivia, wherever you are_

_I hope that you're safe_

_I hope you're okay_

_I hope you're not hurting too badly_

_I hope in vain for all but this:_

_Tonight I wish upon a star_

_For you to realize how special you are_

It's all I can do. I wish I could do more.

**Review for chapter seven!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Again, it's very short. But I didn't think this part fit with the last chapter or the next chapter, so here it is. Also, sorry if the change is kind of abrupt; it takes place over time.**

But a few weeks later, Olivia stops coming to school altogether. By now, I barely see Arianna and our friendship is all but dead. I've been spending most of my time with Olivia. Maybe part of it's out of guilt, but our tenuous friendship is gradually strengthening.

I drop by her house every day for a week, then I start to panic. _What if they've killed her? And I did nothing to stop it! _I sink into a stupor. Some days, I can't even bring myself to get out of bed.

Nobody understands. My parents and brother tiptoe around me. The housekeeper brings me chicken soup and presses a cold compress to my forehead, even though I protest that I'm not sick. Arianna calls at first, but then she doesn't anymore. I guess I'm more of a liability than an asset now.

I can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes, all I can see is Olivia, her round chocolate eyes penetrating my core as she cries, "Alex! Where are you? I need you! Help me!" And then her mother and the boyfriend are there, hitting her, beating her to death while I stand rooted to the ground, unable to do a thing to stop them. I watch her die, a look of eternal terror frozen on her face.

I toss and turn, thrashing around in bed, and when I wake myself up, I find tears streaking down my cheeks. _Olivia, _I ask silently. _Where are you?_

I breathe a silent prayer for my lost friend every night, but it does no good. The world is turning, but she's no longer a part of it, and neither am I.

**Review for chapter eight!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Warning: M-rated content ahead. Reader discretion is advised.**

One night, I'm lying awake in my bed and I hear a knock on the door. Ugh . . . it's three in the morning. Who the hell knocks on the door at three in the morning? But I'm guessing that I'm the only one awake right now, so I groan and pull myself out of bed and peer through the peephole. My breath catches in my throat. _Olivia_.

My heart starts to race. Is this a hallucination? Is it just a dream? Am I going crazy? Or is she really here? _Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God! _I open the door and sure enough, there's Olivia Benson, standing on the stoop.

Under the fluorescent porch lights, Olivia looks downright terrified – an expression I've rarely seen on my strong friend. She's shivering in the cold night air and there's a big bruise on her face. More bruises adorn her wrists and she's sporting a fading black eye.

"Olivia," I whisper, rooted to the spot in surprise. Then I regain my bearings and step aside so she can come in. "It's cold out there. Come on."

She gratefully steps into the house, looking so helpless and weak in her oversize sweatshirt that my heart goes out to her. I reach out to take her shaking hands. They're icy cold. She looks up at me with those dark eyes, but instead of that usual penetrating stare, I see an easily recognizable expression – _fear. Poor Olivia._

"Let's go to my room," I offer. "But we have to be quiet so we don't wake my parents."

Olivia doesn't say anything. She silently follows me to my bedroom. I see the wonderment in her eyes when we get to my room, but still, she doesn't say a word.

I let go of her hands and climb up onto my bed, patting the space beside me. She hesitates before sitting down on my bed and I realize I've never been so happy – so _relieved _– to see anyone in my entire life.

I don't ask her anything. I don't say a word. I wrap my arms around her, just to reassure her that I'm there. She flinches at first, but doesn't pull away. I can feel the raised welts through her shirt and bite back my disgust, but then, I'm just glad that she trusts me enough to let me be close to her at a time like this.

I don't know how long we stay like that for, but finally I see Olivia's eyelids start to droop. I check my watch and realize it's four in the morning. "You can have the bed," I offer.

Rather than arguing, she crawls under the covers and rests her head on my soft pillow. Within minutes, she's fast asleep.

I pull the spare mattress out of my closet and make up the bed. I lay down on the mattress, and while it's perfectly comfortable, I can't sleep. I just lay there, listening to Olivia's even breathing. Wondering. Waiting.

Around 7:00, my bedroom door flies open. "Wakey, wakey sleepyhead!" calls Josh in a singsong voice.

I chuck my pillow at him. "Shut up," I hiss. "Get out. Out!"

But Olivia's already awake. Clutching my pillow tightly, she inches backward on the bed and lets out a small whimper.

Josh rolls his eyes before disappearing, muttering, "_Girls_."

I climb onto my bed and perch beside Olivia. "Hey, Liv, it's okay. That's just my brother, Josh, a.k.a. the most annoying creature ever to grace the planet."

Her body is still shaking, but her hold on the pillow relaxes. Still, she doesn't say a word, which frightens me. She hasn't spoken the entire time she's been here.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" I say gently.

She shakes her head, those chocolate eyes glassy, unfocussed. She pulls her knees to her chest and rests her head on them, staring not at me, but _past _me. The eeriness of it sends a chill down my spine.

Filling in the blanks for myself, I backtrack. "Okay, you don't want to talk about it. That's okay. Let's go get breakfast, okay? We have cereal, bagels, croissants, toast . . . or we could have the cook make us some pancakes if you like."

Mutely, she follows me to the kitchen.

"Good morning, Alex," the cook, Marianna, greets me with a smile. "Who's this?"

"'Morning, Marianna. This is my friend, Olivia."

Ignoring the marks that cover Olivia's body, Marianna gives her a smile. "It's nice to meet you, Olivia." She turns to me. "I can make you some strawberry pancakes if you like."

Strawberry pancakes are my absolute favorite. I look at Olivia. "Is that okay?"

She gives me a slight nod.

"Thanks, Marianna," I say with a smile.

"They'll be done in ten," she tells me. "Go get dressed and they'll be ready by the time you are."

I lead Olivia back up to my bedroom. "I'll find you something clean to wear," I tell her, rummaging around in my closet for something that will fit. Finally, I locate a pair of blue jeans and a long-sleeved navy blue t-shirt. I toss them to Olivia. "Here." Then I add, "You can change in the washroom if you like."

But she's already pulling her sweatshirt over her head, revealing her broken, battered body. Angry red welts cover her back and a hodgepodge of bruises adorns every inch of her skin.

"Liv, wait," I say. "We should probably put some Neosporin on that so it doesn't get infected."

She drops my shirt and turns to face me, her dark eyes pools of sadness, hopelessness. Exhaustion. Two tears leak from her eyes like large, wet pearls, but she obediently lies down on her stomach, waiting patiently for me to retrieve the ointment. I climb onto the bed and sit down beside her, applying the antibiotic to her wounds. She winces at even the gentle touch on her tender skin. A small whimper escapes, but then she bites down hard on her bottom lip and doesn't make a sound.

"I'll go get some gauze," I tell her. "We'll wrap up your back and it'll feel better, okay?"

She doesn't reply, but doesn't move either. I take the implied consent and wrap up her back so the welts don't get infected. I'm actually surprised that she's letting me touch her in such an intimate way, but the fight has drained from her eyes, and she's too worn out to protest.

I finish fixing up her back and put away the gauze and Neosporin. "Okay, Liv," I say gently. "You can finish getting changed."

Almost robotically, she gets up and pulls my shirt over her head. She pulls down her pants and even though I'm trying not to watch her, I can't suppress my gasp when I see the dried blood and finger-shaped bruises on her thighs.

She glances at me, a deer in headlights, and quickly pulls my pants over her legs. I bite my lip, my heart constricting as I realize what it means. But I know I'll be overstepping my bounds if I say a word, so I don't.

Olivia curls up on my bed again, staring at her lap. Ashamed.

I sit beside her and wrap my arms around her just like I did last night. "It's not your fault," I whisper, holding her tight. "It's _not_."

She just sits there, staring listlessly at the wall.

Finally, I take a deep breath. "Let's go have some pancakes."

She follows me downstairs and sits down in the dining room. Marianna places a plate of strawberry pancakes in front of each of us and she brings her fork to her mouth almost mechanically. Take a bite, chew, swallow, take another bite. Chew, swallow, repeat.

I've lost my appetite and push my pancakes away, even though I love them. The marks I saw on Olivia's frail body repulse me and I know that if I eat a thing, I'll be sick.

**Poor Olivia. **** Review to find out what happens next!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Again, thanks to everyone for your reviews. I'm glad you're enjoying my story!**

When we finish, we go up to my bedroom and start a silent game of checkers. I tell my housekeeper that Olivia and I are going to be absent from school today and to call the secretary and tell her. It barely registers on Olivia's face, but she robotically follows me back to my room.

I jump my red piece over two of her black ones. "Your turn."

But she's not paying attention to the game. She's staring listlessly at the wall again, focusing on something that I can't see.

My heart breaks. I wonder if she'll ever be the same.

I abandon the game and start to clean it up. Olivia doesn't even notice.

I put the game back in the closet where I found it and sit beside her, as close as I can without physically touching her. "Do you want to go for a walk?" I ask her.

No response.

"Do you want to play a different game?"

Nothing.

I start to get scared. "Can you say something, Liv?"

She blinks, then turns to look at me. I know she's heard me, and she opens her mouth as if to reply. I hold my breath, but she doesn't say anything.

My heart sinks. She's regressed so far, and I'm not sure whether it's permanent or only temporary. And if so, _how _temporary. I wonder what traumatized her so much, but then I think I already know, and a wave of nausea envelops my body.

"Can I do something with your hair?" I ask her in an effort to push the disturbing thoughts from my mind.

She gives me a slight nod and I start to separate her dark tresses into little sections so I can braid them. "You have to stay still for this," I tell her, although I don't foresee this being a problem.

I start to braid each little section of her hair. Olivia stays perfectly still, not moving an inch as I work. I'm not sure whether I'm playing with her hair because I'm bored or because it's something I actually want to do, but nevertheless, I continue to plait her hair.

It takes me almost an hour, but finally, her hair is finished and I'm satisfied. "Okay, Liv," I say, stepping back. "Look in the mirror."

She doesn't move.

I put a gentle hand on her shoulder and help her to her feet. I lead her toward the mirror, feeling more like my mother than Olivia's friend. "Look how beautiful you are."

The corners of her lips turn up a bit. It's not much, but it's something.

I pop a DVD in my television and Olivia and I lounge on my bed, watching the movie. In all honesty, I don't think either of us is really paying much attention to the events of the film, but it's something to distract us from reality right now, which is what we both need.

I hear a knock on my door and briefly wonder whether I should tell Olivia to hide. _Too much work_. "Come in," I call.

The door opens and my mother stands in the doorway, a perfect picture. Not one blonde hair out of place, her makeup immaculate as always, her designer outfit. The polar opposite of Olivia's mother.

I feel Olivia scooting closer to me. "It's okay," I murmur to her, then turn to my mother. "Hi, Mom."

Confusion, then concern, flits across her face. "Grace told me you didn't go to school again today," she tells me. "I was a bit worried." She gestures to Olivia. "Who's your friend?"

"This is Olivia," I tell her. "Liv, this is my mom."

"It's nice to meet you, Olivia," says my mother gently, then turns to me, questions in her eyes.

"Olivia's going to stay with us for a little while," I tell her, praying she'll understand, but saying it in a tone that allows no room for negotiation. Part of me wishes she'll go away, but the other part of me wants to be close to her right now, suddenly grateful for the mother I have, the mother that Olivia _doesn't_ have.

My mother comes into my room and perches beside me on the bed. "So Alex, what's up?"

I roll my eyes. "You're not good at speaking fourteen-year-old."

She chuckles and a glance at Olivia reveals the corners of her mouth quirking upward. That makes me feel a bit better.

My mother starts to absently run her fingers through my hair like she did when I was a child. I pull away. "Don't touch."

She laughs again. "But you have such _lovely _hair. Which is, of course, why I need to make mine just like it."

I grin. My mother used to have blonde hair when she was younger, but it darkened when she was in her early teens, and then she started dyeing it blonde. "Play with your own hair, then."

Gesturing to Olivia, she murmurs, "_Ton ami ne parle pas_?"

"She does," I reply tersely. "Just not now."

My brother and I had a nanny who spoke to us only in French when we were younger, so we learned the language, and now my parents speak to us in French when they don't want others to understand. Usually, though, I reply in English because even though I understand French, finding the right words is generally too much of a hassle.

My mother nods. "_Pourquoi_?"

"It's not my story to tell," I tell her, then turn to Olivia. "Liv, do you want to tell my mom what happened?"

No response.

"Do you want me to tell her?"

She continues to stare at the wall.

"Can I tell her what I know?" I ask, rephrasing my original question.

"Do you want me to stay with you or would you be more comfortable if I left?" my mother asks Olivia gently.

Olivia maneuvers herself so she's looking right into my mother's eyes. She opens her mouth and I hold my breath. "You can stay," she says quietly.

Tears of relief rush to my eyes. Her voice is the sweetest sound I've heard in what seems like forever.

**So . . . do you want to know what happens next? Review to find out!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Thank you for all your reviews! I'm glad you like my story. **

Olivia lays her head back down on my pillow and lets out a sigh as if she's got the whole world on her shoulders. Which she does. I sprawl out at the foot of the bed and my mother sits beside me. We finish the movie in silence.

When it's over, I flip off the television and take out the disc. Glancing at Olivia, I see that she's fast asleep. She looks so . . . peaceful. How ironic.

My mother brushes a few strands of hair away from Olivia's face. "Poor child," she murmurs, more to herself than anything.

I climb up on the bed next to them and lean my head on my mother's shoulder. "I love you," I whisper.

She smiles at me. "I love you, too, sweetheart."

We stay like that for a few moments, then my mother says, "Let's go to my room and we can talk, okay? We don't want to wake her."

I smile a bit, realizing that this is how I've been talking to Olivia for the entire day – like she's a child. Well, I learned from my mother.

Obediently, I follow her into her bedroom and crawl onto her bed, just as I used to when I was younger. My mother and I have always been close, but being near her at this particular moment is especially comforting.

She sits down across from me and opens her mouth to say something, but before she can, we hear a blood-curdling shriek coming from my bedroom. Both of us jump up and run in the direction of the scream.

Olivia's lying on her bed, her face stained with tears. She's thrashing around and sobbing, murmuring, "No, no, please! Please, don't!"

My mother's beside her in an instant, gently shaking her awake. Olivia's chocolate eyes widen, wild with fear, but then she settles when she realizes it's just my mother. She wraps her arms around herself. "I'm sorry," she whimpers.

My mother gently strokes her hair like she used to do for me when I had nightmares as a child. "It's okay, sweetheart," she says softly, then turns to me. I'm standing in the middle of my bedroom, watching the dynamic unfolding before me, but the look in my mother's eyes is a clear dismissal. "Alex, why don't you leave Olivia and I alone for a bit?"

Grabbing a swimsuit from my dresser drawer, I scamper out of my room into the basement. I change and dive into the pool, then start swimming laps as fast as I can. Front crawl one way, then backstroke the other. Over and over until I feel a splash coming from the other side of the pool, then a tug on my hair.

I sit up, spluttering as I tread water. "You idiot," I spit at my brother. "You screwed up my rhythm!"

Josh snickers. "So competitive."

"Against _myself_?"

He laughs. "So what's up with your friend?"

I try to make my face blank. "What about her?"

"You know, the girl who was sleeping in your bed this morning. Not Arianna or one of the twins."

"I know _who _you mean. What do you want to know?"

"Why she was here."

I somersault backward all the way across the pool. "None of your business."

He climbs out of the pool and cannonballs back in, making a huge splash just to annoy me.

"I thought the point of pool entrances was to displace the _least_ amount of water possible."

"Shut up," he calls playfully.

Well, swimming when my brother's trying to mess up my rhythm is pointless at best, so I climb out of the pool and towel myself dry.

I change back into my clothes and pull my hair into a ponytail, then drop my swimsuit in the laundry room before making my way to the kitchen to get a snack.

On my way, I glimpse my mother and Olivia coming down the hallway. Both pairs of eyes are red and puffy and both faces are solemn. My mother catches my eye and murmurs, "You did well, Alex."

As I stare after their retreating backs, I wonder what she means.

I grab some crackers for a snack and pull a bottle of Perrier out of the fridge. Pouring myself a glass, I carry it carefully to the living room.

Olivia's sprawled out on the couch, wearing a different one of my outfits and watching a movie. She scoots over when she sees me and pats the seat next to her, looking just like her old self. "Your mom's cool," she comments.

I smile, glad she's talking again. "I know." Most ninth graders would never admit to having anything to do with their mothers, but my mom is as great as they come. And I'm sensible enough to realize how lucky I am, especially in comparison to Olivia. Yet she's somehow found the strength to carry on.

That night, I lend Olivia a pair of my pajamas and offer her the bed again. "That's okay," she says politely. "You can have it."

Just then, I hear a knock at my door. Assuming it's my mother, I call, "Come in."

The door opens to reveal my mother. "Olivia, I made up the guest bedroom for you," she says. "My room and Alex's room are right down the hall. You can come to us if you need anything at all, okay?"

Olivia nods. "Thanks."

"Goodnight, Olivia," I tell her.

"'Night," she replies as she follows my mother out of my room.

I change into my own nightgown, then climb into my bed and take out a book. Generally, I read for half an hour before I go to sleep. When I was younger, my mother would read with Josh and I every night before we went to bed, especially when my father was out of town (which was a frequent occurrence). We got through the _Harry Potter _series, all the Gordon Korman books, the Andrew Clements books, and the _Bobbsey Twins _series, among others. Even when I started grade six, by which time Josh had declared himself too old to be read to, I continued to read by myself every night.

I hear a soft knock on my door and put down my book. "Come in."

My mother comes into my room and perches beside me on the bed. She wraps her arms around me and kisses the crown of my head. "You're a good friend, Alex," she murmurs. "And you did the right thing."

"Did Olivia tell you?" I ask, leaning my head against her shoulder.

"Yes. But it's her choice if she wants to tell _you_." She hesitates, then says somewhat reluctantly, "Was this why you didn't want to get out of bed for the last few weeks?"

I nod. "She wasn't at school." I pause. "I was worried about her. I saw them hitting her."

"Alex, why didn't you tell me?"

I shake my head. "She didn't want me to. And I thought that betraying her trust wouldn't do anything for our friendship."

She gives me a sad smile. "Smart girl."

Leaning my head against her shoulder, I ask, more rhetorically than anything, "Why?"

"Why what, sweetheart?"

I try to phrase my question in a way that will make sense to my mother, even though I'm not sure I fully understand it myself. "How can some parents be so _evil_? And what makes them that way?"

She pauses, clearly trying to figure out an answer but faltering. "I don't know, baby. But just be glad you are who you are and you were born into the family you live in. And someday when you figure it out, you come tell me."

I snuggle closer to her. "_La pauvre_," I murmur.

"If you mean Olivia, I'm sure she wouldn't want you to think of her that way. You know her better than I do, of course; I only talked to her for a few hours. But with the cards she's been dealt, she's one of the bravest, strongest people I've ever met. You two have a lot you could teach each other."

"What could I teach _her_?"

My mother sighs. "How to be happy."

**Review for chapter eleven!**


	11. Chapter 11

Around three in the morning, I start awake to a shrill scream, and then muffled sobbing. I hop out of bed and pad down the hallway to the guest room to see if Olivia's all right, but my mother's already in there with her and the sight of the two of them melts my heart. She's cradling Olivia in her arms, stroking her hair like she's a small child, singing a soft lullaby like she used to when Josh and I had nightmares when we were younger. I'm sure Olivia has never had anyone hold her before, rock her in their arms, comfort her when she cries. Before me, I'm sure she never letanyone _see_ her cry.

I'm not sure if my mother notices me or not, but if she does, she gives no indication. She continues to rock Olivia in her arms until her eyes start to droop and she falls asleep. Then she wipes away my friend's tears and presses a kiss to her temple. "_Bonne nuit, ma cherie_," she whispers, so softly that I have to strain to hear. "_Faites des beaux rêves_."

She tucks Olivia back under the covers and I scamper, not wanting my mother to catch me staring. I don't understand why, considering she's _my _mother, but I feel like I'm intruding on an intimate moment. Which is ironic, considering this is _my _house. Then it occurs to me and I almost laugh at the absurdity of it. _Am I jealous? Of _Olivia?But then I realize that that's exactly what it is. Which is ludicrous. If I ever want my mother to hold me, all I have to do is ask.

Before I know it, my feet have carried me to my parents' bedroom. I open the door and tiptoe inside. My father is sound asleep in their king-sized bed, lightly snoring. My mother is lying awake, staring at the wall. She gives me a wan smile when she sees me. "Hi, baby," she whispers. "Are you okay?"

Without a word, I climb up onto their bed and crawl between my parents. I rest my head on my mother's shoulder and snuggle close to her. I'm feeling especially vulnerable tonight, more so than I have in years. But sandwiched between my mother and my father, both of whom love me more than anything, I feel 100% safe.

If only every child could be so lucky.

When I wake up in the morning, it takes me a moment to get my bearings. Then I smile when I realize I'm in my parents' bed, lying between them, my mother's warm arms wrapped around me. My father is snoring beside me and my mother's even breathing indicates that she's still asleep. I gently extricate myself from her grasp and pad down the hallway toward the guest room. Knocking softly on the door, I hear Olivia call, "Come in."

Opening the door, I see her curled up in the fetal position. She glances up and smiles when she sees me. "Hey."

I perch on the edge of the bed. "Sleep well?"

"I guess." She hesitates. "Thanks for letting me stay here last night."

"You can stay as long as you like," I assure her with a gracious smile.

She pauses, clearly unsure. "Is your mom okay with that?"

I wave my hand dismissively. "She's your biggest fan."

Olivia gives me a wan smile. "You have a good family."

"I know."

"Thanks for . . . everything."

I can tell it's hard for her to say the words and I can see how much it hurts that she has to. Instinctively, I reach out and grasp her hands tightly. "That's what friends are for."

My mother comes in half an hour later and tells me to shoo; she's going to change the dressings on Olivia's back. I scurry away, retreating to my bedroom.

About twenty minutes later, I hear a knock on my door. Dropping my book, I call, "Hi."

My mother and Olivia are standing in the doorway. "Alex, Olivia and I are going out to grab some gelato. Do you want to come?"

"Sure," I agree, hopping off my bed. Pulling open my dresser drawer, I take out a pair of socks and put them on. "Ready."

We walk the six blocks to the gelato place in silence. I order my usual, French vanilla, and my mother gets a blueberry cone. Olivia takes forever to decide and I realize she's never actually had this many choices before. "They'll let you sample them," I tell her, and she tries almost all of them before finally ordering a strawberry cone.

Licking my ice cream cone, I follow my mother and Olivia back to the house. We don't talk; we're more focused on our gelato.

For some reason, when we reach my house, Olivia steps closer to me and I can feel the shiver coursing through her frail body. "What's wrong?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "Nothing." She hesitates, then repeats, "It's nothing."

And I know better than to pry.

Olivia sticks close to me until we get inside. "Do you want to go swimming?" I ask her, then regret it when she wraps her arms protectively around her body and shakes her head. _Of course. She doesn't want anyone to see the rainbow of marks that cover adorn her body._

"Do you want to watch another movie?"

She rolls her eyes. "You don't have to babysit me, Alex."

I flush. She's a sharp one. "I'm not," I protest, even though that's _exactly _what I'm doing. Subconsciously.

"Right." She heads for the living room and flops down on the couch. I catch the wince that she tries to suppress when her battered body comes into contact with the sofa and she bites down on her bottom lip.

I marvel at how "at home" she's making herself. Rather than feeling territorial, there's a strange sense of pride that she's comfortable with my family and I.

I plop down beside her, scooting to the edge of the couch and resting my head on the armrest. Olivia flips on the television and starts aimlessly changing the channels. I close my eyes, drifting in and out of consciousness for the next half hour.

Both of us jump at the ringing of the doorbell. "Who's that?" I wonder aloud. Then I notice Olivia's frail body trembling – in fear? "Liv, what's wrong?" I ask her.

She shakes her head as if to clear it. "Nothing. I'm fine."

Josh pokes his head into the living room. "Alex, there's someone here to see your friend."

My heart quickens and I glance at Olivia, whose face is devoid of all colour. Her hands are shaking and she's staring at the ground. "Who's there?" I ask my brother.

He shrugs.

"Where's Mom?"

"She has her yoga class, just like _every _Saturday afternoon, Alex. Get with it." Josh disappears.

"It's my mom and her boyfriend," whimpers Olivia.

"What makes you think that?" I ask.

"Who else would it be? They somehow found out I was here! They were watching . . ." She takes a deep breath to calm herself. "I'm sorry, Alex." She gets up and starts for the front door.

I jump up and follow her. "Liv –"

But I stop short when I see our unwelcome visitors. Sure enough, standing in the doorway are Olivia's mother and the man I saw hitting her that day.

**Ooooh, cliffie! Would you like to know what happens next? Review if you do!**


	12. Chapter 12

**I know this one's short, but I thought I had to give all my loyal readers the continuation from the evil cliffhanger I gave you last time! Don't hate me too much. **

Olivia freezes and her trembling increases exponentially as her mother's boyfriend grabs her arm and yanks her toward him. He backhands her across the face and hisses, "You little slut!" And then he's hitting her. Right in front of me. Barely registering my presence.

It all happens so fast. "Josh!" I shout, more panicked than I've ever been in my life. But really, what help can my brother be now? By the time he shows up, it might be too late. It's up to me now. There's no one else.

Adrenaline coursing through my veins, I grab the man's wrist and twist it hard, with a strength – and courage – I didn't know I possessed. It isn't that I'm stronger; it's just that I've surprised him, and he lets go of my friend. She stands there for a moment in shock, rubbing her arm where finger-shaped bruises are starting form.

"Get out of my house!" I scream hysterically, punching him as hard as I can. I'm no fighter, but I did take karate for three years when I was younger.

He laughs and grabs me. Clearly, I've done the wrong thing. But how would I know that? The adrenaline flowing through my body is attempting to run the show. My heart stops. Is he going to hit me?

I struggle, then remember something else. I lean down and sink my teeth into his wrist as hard as I can.

_That's _the right thing to do, apparently, because he yelps and tries to smack me, but I take advantage of the situation to wriggle out of his grasp.

And then – the voice of an angel. "You get your hands _off _my daughter!" she says forcefully, then in a slightly calmer tone, "What's going on here?" _My mother._

"We came to pick up our daughter," growls Olivia's mother, who looks unsteady on her feet. She's been surveying the altercation with interest, but hasn't intervened.

"Get out of my house," orders my mother.

"We're sorry if the girl's been a burden," says Olivia's mother's boyfriend, reaching out again to grasp her arm. She shies away and he adds, "It won't happen again."

"Get out before I notify the police and press charges against you for trespassing," warns my mother.

I see his hand go to his belt in a threatening manner and Olivia cringes. She's still standing rooted to the spot, clear terror etched onto her features. Her dark eyes are orbs of sadness and fear.

Confident that my mother can deal with the Bensons, I put my hands on Olivia's shaking shoulders and gently shepherd her up to my bedroom. "It's okay," I murmur, even though my own heart is still pounding as if I've just run a marathon. "No one's going to hurt you. My mother will take care of it."

She locks her eyes with mine. Surprisingly, I don't read gratefulness or relief in her eyes. Instead, I see – _contempt? _"You're such a child," she whispers, pulling her knees to her chest and curling up in a ball, two tears streaking down her cheeks. She doesn't even bother to wipe them away. "You're so _naïve. _Mommy can't fix everything now, Alex. Not for me."

That stops me for a moment. Disappointment engulfs me, then sadness, because I realize that maybe she's right. Our experiences make us who we are, and hers are nothing short of traumatic. So her reluctance is understandable.

It's understandable, but it doesn't make it any easier.

**Review for the next chapter!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Again, I know this one's short. My apologies. Enjoy!**

I sit on the floor of my bedroom, not daring to move or say a word. The room is silent, save for a few sniffles that Olivia can't quite manage to suppress. Her body is shaking as several tears course down her cheeks. All I want is to go to her and wrap my arms around her, comfort her, soothe her, assure her that everything will be okay. But I can't say that, because I don't know if it's true. And at this point, she'll knock my teeth down my throat if I get near her.

I hear a soft knock on my door. Glancing at Olivia, I notice her frail body start to shake even more, and I call cautiously, "Who is it?"

"It's just me," says my mother's gentle voice. "They're gone. They're not coming back." She opens the door and comes into the room. Kneeling down in front of me, she kisses my temple. "I'm proud of you, sweetie. I know that was scary."

"What –"

"Olivia's going to stay with us for now," she says grimly. "They won't bother us again."

I nod toward Olivia, who's still curled up in a ball. "She doesn't want me near her," I explain mournfully.

My mother sighs. Pressing one more kiss to my forehead, she lets go of me and climbs onto the bed, sitting beside Olivia, gently stroking her hair. She doesn't say anything, just giving her the physical closeness and comfort she needs right now.

Finally, she raises her head. Her voice surprisingly steady, she says, "I'm okay." She lets out a shuddering breath, then repeats, "I'm okay."

I don't know if she's saying it to convince us or to convince herself.

"I know, sweetie," says my mother. "You _are _okay."

Then I have to wonder what my mother means.

A couple hours later, I rummage around in my bedroom for a swimsuit, get changed, and start for the basement, planning to swim some laps in the pool to get rid of my anxiety. But when I get down there, I see Olivia in the water, doing the front crawl back and forth across the pool. The first thing I wonder is where she learned to swim. The second thought that comes to mind is how awful her back looks in my skimpy swimsuit. I only have one one-piece that I used to wear when I did swimming competitions, but it's still very revealing.

Olivia notices my presence. She finishes her lap and grabs onto the ledge. "Don't stare," she snaps, climbing out of the pool and wrapping herself up in a towel.

"It's okay," I assure her.

"I wish you would stop saying that."

"Well, today's your lucky day. Wish granted."

She snickers and towels herself dry, wincing when the cotton comes into contact with her battered skin.

I do a back flip into the water and grin at Olivia when I come up for air. She doesn't look particularly impressed.

"Show-off."

I laugh. "I know."

Inexplicably, Olivia turns on her heel and starts up the stairs, leaving me alone in the basement. I stare after her for a moment before staring to swim laps around the pool. But my head doesn't get any clearer.

**Review for chapter fourteen!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Granted, I've posted a bunch of short ones recently, but I hope you enjoy this little installment anyway.**

We go back to school on Monday for the first time in weeks. Neither of us particularly wants to, but my mother tells us there's no point in postponing the inevitable. "The longer you wait, the harder it'll be," adds my father.

I accept this, resigned to the face that I will have to return someday and missing more school than I have to is in nobody's best interest.

On the other hand, Olivia is still reluctant. She chews her fingernails to the quick on Sunday night and even I can tell that going back to school isn't her real fear, only part of it.

"What are you really scared of?" I ask tactlessly, perched on the edge of her head.

Her head snaps up. "I'm not scared."

"_Right_," I reply sarcastically. "And I'm Elvis Presley."

"He's dead, o brilliant one."

"That's the point."

She turns away from me. "Shut up."

And I have the good sense to do as I'm told. An angry Olivia is _not _something I want to tango with anytime soon.

We sit in silence for a few moments. Finally, I decide that this is futile and get up to leave. But Olivia's soft admission stops me. "I'm scared they'll find me." She hesitates. "I'm scared they'll hurt me again and I won't be able to stop them." Choking back a sob, she blurts, "I'm scared of being _weak _again."

Now what is there to say to that? I settle with the only thing I can think of. "You're not weak."

She buries her head in her hands, whimpering, "If I were stronger, they wouldn't hurt me. They _couldn't _hurt me. They wouldn't want to."

"Everyone gets scared," I tell her, echoing something my mother told me years ago. "True strength is facing your fears."

Smiling sadly, Olivia asks, "What are you scared of?"

Well, I might as well even the score. "I'm scared of seeing Arianna again," I say honestly.

"_Why_?"

I shrug. It's hard to explain, even to myself. "She used to be my best friend."

The corners of Olivia's mouth turn up. "Not anymore?"

I shake my head.

"Who is, then?"

_You, Liv. _But I bite back the words and don't say anything at all, hoping she'll hear the words even though I can't say them.

Apparently she does, because she leans back on her pillow with a satisfied smile.

Olivia sticks close to me as we walk into the school the next morning. I'm trying to be brave for her – but then, who's there to be brave for me?

She quickly changes into her gym clothes and I do the same. I can't help but notice that the welts on her back are healing nicely; my mother's been changing the dressings for her every morning and every night. I'm actually surprised that Olivia lets her.

We go out into the main gym together. I notice Olivia's frail body trembling, but whether it's because she's cold or because she's afraid is anybody's guess. I give her hand a comforting squeeze.

The door to the gym flies open and I hear a shriek from the other end of the room. "Alex!"

I cringe. _Arianna._ I didn't realize I'd have to do this so soon. I'm not ready.

Her blonde hair bounces as she runs toward me, throwing her arms around me and enveloping me in a long hug. "Where _were _you, Lex? I missed you!"

"I missed you, too," I reply, albeit a bit hollowly.

She steps back and looks me up and down, confusion evident on her face. "You've changed."

"Yeah, well." I shift uncomfortably, then glance at Olivia, who's inching backward toward the wall. "Liv!" I call after her.

The expression on Arianna's face turns to disgust. "What are you hanging with that _slut _for?"

"She's not a slut!" I snap. "She's my friend."

"_I'm _your friend."

"The two aren't mutually exclusive."

"Yes," she says contemptuously. "They are." Then she pauses. "So it's true then?"

"What is?"

"That the slut is staying with your family."

"She's not a –"

"She's not a virgin. Like I said. Slut."

I stare at her in shock. "I don't know you."

"No, Lex. I don't know _you_. Since when do you choose that whore over your best friend? She'll spread her legs for anyone and she'll dirty up your family. You'll never –"

"It wasn't her fault!" I burst out, my calm exterior evaporating. "Her mother's boyfriend –" Then I gasp and clamp my hands over my mouth, realizing what I've done. _Oh, my God._

Arianna's face lights up as if I've fed her the juiciest piece of gossip. Which, inadvertently, I have. She turns on her heel and flounces away. _Crap. This will be all over the school by the end of the day._

I turn to Olivia, tears of shame rushing to my eyes. "Liv, I'm –"

She whirls around to face me, her dark eyes wild. My blood runs cold when I realize her fire is directed at _me._

"I hate you," she spits at me, then deflates a little. "I thought I could trust you. I thought you were my _friend_."

The tears spill down my cheeks. "Liv," I try to explain. "I –"

"Shut up," she snaps. "And my name is _Olivia_."

At her words and the tone in which she speaks them, I die a little inside.

**Aw, don't you feel sorry for both of them? ****I'm so evil, torturing my characters like this. Will it get better or worse? Review to find out.**


	15. Chapter 15

**The next installment in a series of short chapters! My apologies. The next one will be longer. That is, assuming you want it . . . **

I don't see Olivia for the rest of the day. I wait for her after school, but I don't see her, and finally I just ask Daniel to take me home. "Where's your friend?" he asks me, but I just shake my head.

I manage to make it to my room before my tears spill over. I collapse on my bed and sob my heart out. _This is my fault. I've ruined our friendship. I ruined the only thing that ever felt safe for Olivia, who's never felt safe in her life. _I wonder how many more bruises she'll have when – _if _– I ever see her again.

Granted, that's probably typical teenage melodrama. But still, I can't help but worry.

That's how my mother finds me when she gets home two hours later. "Where's Olivia?" she asks gently, but that only makes me cry harder.

My mother pulls me close. "What happened, sweetheart?"

Through my sobs, I manage to tell her what Arianna did. "She's not my friend anymore!" I wail, but even I don't know whether I'm referring to Olivia or Arianna.

"Oh, baby," whispers my mother, kissing the crown of my head. Her clear blue eyes are pools of sadness. "So what are you going to do?"

I cover my face with my hands. "I don't know. She won't talk to me. She won't listen to me. I betrayed her. I broke her trust. She hates me." Swallowing a sob, I murmur, "She has the right."

"Give her time," suggests my mother. "You're her friend and she knows that. It might take awhile, but she'll come around."

I bury my face in my hands again. "_What have I done_?"

The next morning, I don't feel like going to school, but then I do, because I need to see Olivia. I need to apologize. I need to make her understand.

But she isn't there and my heart sinks. _This is all my fault. _Arianna stays a good distance away from me during all of our classes, but the word on the street is already out. The school is buzzing with Olivia's secret and that, I know, is truly my fault. Even though my name never comes up in the gossip, I can barely meet anyone's eyes, keeping my head down in shame. _I did this._

We have a math test during second period. I glance at the sheet and the numbers are swimming in front of my eyes, spinning around and around in my brain, making me dizzy. I have no idea what any of the answers are and just write in random numbers, knowing even as I do this that I'm going to fail this test – the first test I've ever failed in my life. All I can think of is Olivia. _Where is she right now? What is she doing? How is she doing? Is she okay? Is she hurt? Is it my fault? _So many questions but no answers.

The school day stretches on. When it's finally over and I get home, I lock myself in my bedroom and don't say a thing to anyone all evening, just laying on my bed, burying my face in my pillow. But I don't cry. I'm all out of tears.

And just like that, Olivia waltzes out of my life just as inexplicably as she waltzed in.

**Do you want another chapter? If you do, press that little button and drop me a review!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Okay, I wouldn't leave you hanging like that. I'm not *that* cruel. (Wait, yes, I am.) This one takes place two years later.**

I'm at the library, sitting at a table and flipping through one of my law books. Even though I'm only in grade eleven, I'm taking an AP law course this semester. I fast tracked science and math last year so I'd be able to take grade twelve and university courses this year. Ever since Arianna decided she didn't want to be my friend anymore – no, ever since _Olivia left_, I threw myself into my schoolwork, pushing myself to nearly unattainable standards. Still, I managed to reach these goals, then set new ones that were even harder.

No one ever noticed that when Olivia left, a part of me left with her.

Rather than call Daniel to come pick me up from the library, I walk the twelve blocks home. With Josh away at university and my parents out of town, the house seems so quiet. Too quiet. I try to spend as much of my time away from there as I can. The house is filled with ghosts, echoes of the way we used to be. No. Echoes of the way _I _used to be.

Once upon a time, I was a child living in a fairy tale. Once upon a time, I had it all – beauty, intelligence, money, friends. And values. Once upon a time, I was _happy_.

But then, we all need a little pain in our lives. It keeps us grounded. It makes us stronger.

I know it now. That was how Olivia could be so strong. She'd endured more pain in her short life than anyone should ever have to.

The next day after school, I jog down to the library again. I take out my laptop and start to create a study guide for the twelfth grade English exam coming up in three weeks. For a test, I could probably cram the night before and ace it, but for exams, that never works. Well, it _might_; I just don't want to risk it.

I print three short stories off the internet and set to work deriving a theme and writing out theme statements. At first, I thought theme statements were one of the most useful things we'd be learning in English class, but then I realized that no one I know has mastered the skill, even my parents, who are both very successful. Then I decided it was pointless, but I would learn it anyway, just because learning is easy for me – and it will probably be on the exam. I have a 98% average in grade twelve English and I intend to keep it that way.

Abandoning the theme statements after a few moments of futilely wracking my brain, I turn to the glossary in the back of my law textbook, intending to add another phrase to my vocabulary. "_Res ipsa loquitur_," I murmur, trying the words out on my tongue as I aimlessly chew the cap of my pen. "_The thing speaks for itself._"

A dry voice cuts into my thoughts. "Well, I never thought I'd see the day."

My heart skips a beat and I whirl around, trying to locate the source of the sound. When I do, my stomach flips over, then jumps into my throat and attempts to strangle me. Her hair is cropped shorter, drawing attention to those bottomless brown eyes that took my breath away the first time I saw them, just as they're doing now. Without a doubt, the girl standing before me is Olivia Benson.

My jaw drops and I find myself unable to say a word. For the first time in a long time, the sharp as a tack Alex Cabot is speechless.

"Miss me?" she drawls, clearly trying to appear nonchalant, but her act doesn't fool me one bit.

That's when I take a good look at her. With satisfaction, I note that her face is free of the bruises that used to frequent it. Then I notice the tall boy standing beside her. _Who is he?_

"Yes." I finally manage to choke out an answer to her question. "I did."

She pulls out the chair beside me and plops herself down in it, then adds, "Oh, Alex, this is my friend Elliot. El, this is Alex."

He gives me a curt nod, resting a protective hand on Olivia's shoulder. I'm still too shocked to even greet him.

"Hey, El," says Olivia, turning to him. "Can you give Alex and I a few minutes?"

"Sure, Liv," he replies, keeping his eyes locked on mine as if to say, _You take good care of her or I'll rearrange your teeth. _I recognize the look immediately because I've given it to many a person who was picking on Olivia. Even though she's so much more mature than others our age, she's always seemed so much younger. Her bravado is all superficial; she seems so much like a child sometimes, someone fragile, someone who we all want to protect just because she's never had anyone to do that for her before.

Then it registers – he called her _Liv_. That was always _my _special name for her. The brief envy that courses through my veins at the thought that he's become my replacement spikes, then evaporates almost as suddenly as it ignited. All that's left is a longing for what once was, even though Olivia's clearly moved on and I'm the only one still hanging on this thread of nostalgia. But I can't let go of the past and St. Olivia, whom I realize I've unintentionally immortalized in her absence. But still, a merely mortal Olivia – a _changed _Olivia – is better than no Olivia at all.

"So, Olivia," I say once I've recovered enough to speak. "Who's that?"

She shrugs. "A friend. I do have them, you know."

"I don't," I tell her, trying to seem dismissive, but I'm sure she can hear the pain, still so raw, in my tone.

She raises her eyebrows. "What happened to that blonde bitch?"

"Arianna? Oh, well . . . we're not friends anymore." I guess Olivia's introduction into my life opened my eyes to a lot that I never would have experienced otherwise. My first broken friendship. _My first broken heart._

"Ah. So I'm guessing your perfect life isn't so perfect anymore."

I'm all set to retort that it never was to begin with, but then I realize that she's right. I was a naïve, innocent little kid who wouldn't know pain if it walked right up to me and introduced itself. So instead, I swallow hard. "Guess not."

Her expression softens, but only slightly. In a controlled, quietly mournful tone, she asks, "Does anyone still talk about me?"

I shake my head helplessly. What can I say?

But strangely, that seems to be the response she was looking for and the action seems to comfort her. "How's your mother doing?" she asks softly, nostalgia flitting across her face. I don't know exactly what transpired between them over those four days, but it must have been something very special to have affected both of them so deeply.

_She worried about you for a long time and sometimes she still does, _I don't say. Olivia carries around enough misplaced guilt as it is.

"Fine," I say instead. What I really want to do is ask her how she's doing, but I know Olivia will tell me in her own time. She's always been uncomfortable talking about herself, but when she trusts someone enough, she'll tell them eventually. It might come out in small, intermittent parts, but it _will _come out.

Her eyes search mine for a moment, trying to determine whether or not I'm telling the truth. Then she changes the subject. Indicating my law books, she comments, "So you're taking AP law courses?"

I nod, feeling a bit sheepish, even though my parents have always told me that intelligence is an asset and never to be ashamed of being smart.

"Decided what you're going to do after high school?"

"I'm going to be a lawyer," I tell her. "A district attorney."

Her dark eyes cloud over, but then she wipes them blank. "I'm going to be an _ex_-street kid. I hope."

It takes me breath away for a moment, that such a simple dream could seem so far-off. "You can always stay at my house, Liv. You're always welcome there. My mother would be glad to see you again." I swallow, figuring I might as well admit the truth. "_I _would be glad to see you again."

She looks surprised for a moment, then masks her feelings. "I'm not a needy little kid anymore. I'm doing just fine, Alex. _Just fine_. I can take care of myself."

"I'm sure you can," I reply quietly, my heart shattering into tiny pieces at her words. _What gave her the right to turn my life upside down anyway? _"But you shouldn't have to."

She rolls her eyes. "You still sound like a Hallmark card."

"Aw, _thanks_."

"No, honestly, Alex. It's better this way."

I smirk. "I'm sure Elliot takes good care of you."

She looks offended. "_I _take care of _him_."

I give her a small smile. She hasn't changed at all. "Of course you do."

"Hey, Liv," a voice calls from behind her. We turn around and see Elliot, carrying two cups of coffee. He hands one to her and she gives him that patented half-smile I remember so well. "Ready to go?"

She takes a sip of her coffee, then nods. "Yeah, sure. Hey, Alex, it was nice seeing you again."

"Yeah," I repeat, slightly dazed, thoughts swirling around my head at a hundred miles an hour.

In a matter of minutes, she's floated in and out of my life once again. I stare after her retreating back, her distinctive swagger making me smile to myself. She gets smaller and smaller until she disappears altogether.

**Review for chapter seventeen!**


	17. Chapter 17

I stay at the library, expanding my vocabulary of legalese, until it closes at 9:00. Daniel's waiting for me with the car outside the library.

"I could have walked," I tell him as I climb in.

"It's dark outside," he tells me. "Your mother wouldn't feel comfortable with you walking home by yourself in this city."

"I'm sixteen," I complain. "Not a baby." Even though I'm sure my whiny tone contradicts my argument.

"Take it up with your mother, not me."

Speaking of my mother, I would love to call her right now and tell her I saw Olivia. But what good would that do? To tell her that Olivia's okay in that she's alive, but she's living on the streets? No. Never in a million years. Olivia's no longer a part of my life. I have to move on.

But then, how can I do that when she's made such an impact on me, even in such a short time?

I can't sleep that night. I toss and turn in my bed, thoughts of Olivia whirling around my mind. _This is all my fault. If I hadn't told Arianna about her mother's boyfriend, Olivia wouldn't be living on the streets right now. _"Olivia," I whisper to myself, into the dark of my bedroom. "I'm sorry." I roll onto my side and blink back the tears that threaten to fall, murmuring, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

But I know she can't hear me.

I can't stop myself from going back to the library every day for the next week, hoping to catch a glimpse of my old friend. In the back of my mind, I know even as I do it that I'm obsessed, that I want to be the hero and save Olivia from a life I can't imagine myself. We're worlds apart, just as we always have been – I'm the sheltered rich girl (albeit slightly less sheltered now) who's inadvertently taken her on as a charity case. And she's had it rough, but she's the strongest person I've ever met.

Our friendship, if you could call it that, had a strange dynamic. Olivia only really let me in when she was in a vulnerable state, and when she was her normal self, she pushed me away. So sometimes I have to wonder if she liked our friendship at all, or even thought of it that way. Friendship is give and take, but with us, it was all give and all take, and then nothing at all. I wanted to protect her and take care of her, and maybe I took advantage of the times when she wanted to be protected and taken care of. Or maybe that was just who she was – who she is still. She bristles easily, but somewhere deep down she truly cares.

So that's how I end up sitting at a table at the library, thumbing through my law book and reading through the glossary. "_Res judicata,_" I say to myself, testing the words out, trying to pronounce them correctly. "_A matter already judged. _You can't be tried for the same crime more than once if you've been acquitted. In other words, you've got a smart lawyer and so you got out of jail free."

A voice behind me makes me jump. "Are you stalking me, Cabot?"

I whirl around to see Olivia towering over me and I try not to look too pleased. "The library is a public place," I inform her. "I'm studying."

She smirks. "_Right_."

"Where's Elliot?" I ask her, unable to keep some of the bitterness from my tone.

She frowns. "He's not my keeper."

"I know."

And just like that, there's nothing to say. Olivia and I, who have always had something to say to each other, whether it's casual banter or a heated debate, can't think of what to say next.

Finally, Olivia says honestly, "I don't want you to feel sorry for me, Alex. I don't need it. Not now. Not ever."

"I know." I swallow, and then it all comes out in a rush. "Olivia, I missed you so much in the last two years and I know – I know I wasn't such a good friend and I was condescending and I was patronizing and I was wrong. But I wish – I wish we could be friends again. Maybe we were never 'real' friends but that's what I want – I wish –"

Her sharp eyes fixed on mine stops me and I fall silent. That gaze is unsettling all at once – it feels like she's staring into my soul and again I wonder what she sees. Finally, she speaks in a soft voice that takes my breath away. "I'd like that too, but things will have to be different."

"Okay," I agree quickly.

"I don't want you feeling sorry for me. I don't want you to try to take care of me. I don't want you to treat me like I'm fragile. Friends can be there for each other without seeming condescending. I appreciate everything you've done for me, Alex, I really do. But things are different now. I'm not a child anymore and I don't need to remember everything that happened – everything that happened _to _me – two years ago. I'm okay now. I know you don't agree with it, but this is my decision and I need you to respect that."

"Okay," I whisper, hardly daring to breathe.

She gives me a lopsided smile. "Then we can be friends."

**Maybe I'll write one or two more chapters, but I'm pretty much wrapping it up from here. Review if you want the next one!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Thanks for all the reviews! Enjoy the last chapter. My apologies in advance if it wraps up too easily or abruptly.**

We're in my pool two weeks later and I'm teaching Olivia how to do a back flip in the water. "It's not difficult, but you can't be afraid of your head going under," I tell her. "It's supposed to be like that."

She glares at me, insulted, and boasts, "I'm not scared of anything."

"I know."

As if to underscore her point, she executes a perfect back flip, flashing me a self-satisfied grin as she emerges.

"Good job. Can you do two in a row?"

She rolls her eyes and back flips all the way across the pool, which makes me smile. Olivia is just so . . . Olivia. There's no other word for it.

I watch her for a moment, satisfied at the sight of her unblemished olive skin. There are some old scars, but not a welt or a bruise in sight.

She catches me looking but misinterprets my intentions. "Show me a front flip."

I demonstrate, then stop at the sound of approaching footprints. Emerging from the water, I see my mother walking toward us, carrying a plate of chocolate chip cookies. When I was little, my mother would always make my friends and I chocolate chip cookies when I had a play date. That makes me smile – I'm not five anymore, but the snack isn't any less welcome.

"Hi, Mom!" I call.

Olivia glances up and smiles when she sees my mother. "Hi, Mrs. Cabot."

"Hello, girls," she says, setting the plate of cookies a couple feet away from the pool. "It's good to see you again, Olivia."

She grins and does a back flip, showing my mother what I've just taught her. My mother claps her hands and smiles back at Olivia like she's a child.

Olivia swims to the edge of the pool, grabs a cookie, and shoves it in her mouth. "They're good," she tells my mother with a lopsided smile. "Thanks."

My mother laughs. "Are you staying for dinner?"

She shakes her head. "Elliot's meeting me at five."

"He can stay too," offers my mother.

Olivia considers it for a moment, then nods. "Okay. Thanks, Mrs. Cabot."

My mother smiles. "I'd like to meet this boyfriend of yours."

Olivia shoots me a death glare. "He's _not _my boyfriend! He's just a friend."

My mother raises her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. I'd like to meet this _friend _of yours."

She grins and does another back flip as my mother turns away and starts back upstairs.

In wonderment, I watch her do back flips and somersaults all around my pool. Things have gone from bad to much, much better in a matter of weeks. We're friends again. Olivia's safe now – we helped them find a place to stay, Elliot takes good care of her, and she knows she can come to us if ever and whenever she needs or wants to. She's happier than I've ever seen her. even though I wouldn't want that life for myself, it's her choice and the deal is such that if I try to talk her out of it, she'll leave and never come back. So I don't.

She finishes the series of flips and swims over to one side of the pool grabbing onto the edge. "I'm done," she tells me, pulling herself out of the water and scarfing down another cookie.

"Me, too," I agree, climbing out myself. Grabbing a towel, I dry myself off and pull on a t-shirt over my swimsuit. I can feel her eyes on me as I pull my damp hair into a ponytail. "What?"

"Nothing," she replies, then says quietly, "I was just thinking."

"_Thinking?_" I mock her. "How dare you think?" It's roughly a line from a book, but Olivia doesn't get it. She just stares at me. "What were you thinking?" I amend.

"How different things are now." She looks right into my eyes. "How much I like it."

I know just what she means. "Me, too, Liv," I tell her. "I like it too."

And that's the last time we mention it. We've made a fresh start. This is truly what friendship is.

**So that's the end. I hope you enjoyed my story! Review if you did.**


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